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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26291926">Paradise</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/last_of_her_kind/pseuds/last_of_her_kind'>last_of_her_kind</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), Gen, Harley Keener is (briefly) a jerk, Homelessness, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Post-Endgame, Tony Stark Lives</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:15:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,863</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26291926</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/last_of_her_kind/pseuds/last_of_her_kind</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After the battle and Thanos is defeated, all Peter wants to do is go home. Except... it turns out he doesn't have a home anymore. Aunt May is gone, and the only family Peter might have left is in a hospital recovering from saving the universe.<br/>All Peter wants is to fall into Mr. Stark's arms and let him fix everything, but Tony has his own life now. A life Peter hasn't been a part of for five years. He can see the new family Tony has built for himself, and through a series of misunderstandings, Peter comes to the conclusion that there isn't any room left for him.<br/>But Peter is used to the short end of the stick. He can survive this... can't he? Being on the outside?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker &amp; Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>132</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>907</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>I love you 3000, Irondad Creators Awards 2021 - Nominations, The Best Irondad/Spiderson Fics, The Best Peter Parker Whump Fics, The Best of the Best MCU Fics, Tony survives Endgame and is recovering. Strong emphasis on Peter.</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Sooo.... I just wanted to hurt my favorite superhero? Nah, mostly I just wanted a bunch of misunderstandings, and Peter is the perfect one to use for this! It's not my fault! He's just so sweet and good and innocent... I couldn't help myself ;)<br/>I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was interesting, coming back from the dead. Peter <em>remembered </em>dying. He remembered the pain, the way his cells kept trying to knit themselves back together even as he dissolved. There had been fear and there had been panic, and there had been Mr. Stark’s arms around him and the desperate thought of <em>we’re finely there, huh? </em>And wishing he wasn’t dying just to get it.</p><p>Coming back, in hindsight, was so swift he didn’t even register it for a moment, until Dr. Strange was shouting and summing things up in a few terrible words. “You’ve all been dead for five years. The battle is now.”</p><p>And there was nothing to do but react.</p><p>Dr. Strange made them a portal, and any other time that would have required a moment to appreciate, but he was too shaken, too unsure. And they had appeared where the Avenger’s Compound used to be, only now it was now a crater full of hero’s and aliens and things Peter had never imagined and there was no time to think or pause, just react. Just fight. Just move.</p><p>And move he did, somehow right through the battle, right through the forces of Thanos and into Mr. Stark’s arms. It was brief and it was too tight and it was so full of a kind of grief that Peter was still just comprehending (<em>five years)</em> and he basked in it, because it still managed to be everything he wanted from the man he looked up to.</p><p>Then things were moving again. Peter and Mr. Stark were moving and so much was happening and then they <em>won. </em></p><p>But the relief was only seconds long because Peter got a look at Tony ‘I am Iron Man’ Stark through the ash and his stomach bottomed out and he thought for one painful moment he had lost him too.</p><p>Peter had tried to get close to him, but Pepper Potts and Rhodey and Steve Rogers and half a dozen other important allies were gathered around him, so he stood to the side and watched with wet eyes and a hitch every time he breathed and blood drying sticky on his face until the medics arrived and Mr. Stark was rushed off the field.</p><p>And then he stood there some more because he didn’t know what else to do.</p><p>Eventually Sam Wilson came over to him, his shoulders heavy and his face dirty. He looked at Peter with worried eyes. “Hey kid.”</p><p>Peter tried for a smile but his lips didn’t move.</p><p>“Are you injured?”</p><p>Peter did a quick assessment, but he was sure the too-fast beating of his heart was because of his brain whirring, and not actually anything that could be bandaged. The cut on his scalp was already healed. He just needed a bath, and food, and May and her hugs that could make everything better and then maybe he wouldn’t feel quite so out of it. “I’d just like to get home.” He managed levelly.</p><p>Sam nodded. “Sure thing, Spiderman. I can give you a ride.”</p><p>It turned out the sorcerers were already gone -as were most of the people that had been here, and Peter wondered idly how long he had actually been standing there – but Sam was able to find a car.</p><p>The drive to the city was quiet. Maybe Sam was reeling just as much as Peter. Maybe they just didn’t know each other well enough to say much. Maybe it was taking all Sam had to stay on the road.</p><p>When they stopped for gas, Sam stopped to rummage through the trunk and came back with a matching set of grey sweats and a hoodie, plus some shoes. So he wouldn’t have to wear his all-too-conspicuous suit out of the car in New York. Peter pulled them on over top of the suit.</p><p>Sam had also grabbed them both some water and granola bars. Peter scarfed his down. He didn’t complain that his metabolism would burn through them in minutes. That would just be rude. Besides, he’d be <em>home</em> soon.</p><p>Sam pulled up outside his apartment, and Peter thanked him and bid him goodbye, jogging across the street and into the building and taking the stairs to his and May’s apartment.</p><p>Except it turns out it wasn’t his and May’s anymore. A young couple lived there now, and the woman at the door had been apologetic when she told him they had lived there for over two years. Peter was confused, yes, but May had always talked about getting them a better apartment, so his tired brain didn’t think much of it. He would find her.</p><p> Peter went to the hospital May had worked at, and one of her coworkers broke the news. A car accident had taken her away from him.</p><p>May was gone.</p><p>It wasn’t supposed to be like that. May was gone, and Peter had just got back. They were supposed to be together. He needed her. Peter didn’t have anybody else.</p><p>Peter was pretty numb. To him, it felt like he had died in space not eight hours ago, and then he was standing on the street outside the hospital with no home and no family, in borrowed clothes over his suit and the taste of ash still in his mouth.</p><p>It <em>hurt</em>. He didn’t cry, like his tear ducts were all clogged up, like his body was rejecting the idea that she was… gone.</p><p> </p><p>He tried to find Ned, only to learn that he had Blipped and his parents had moved out of the city. MJ was attending university on the other side of the country.</p><p>Peter had never felt so alone in his city.</p><p>That was the first time he had tried to see Tony, in those first few hours after he found out about May, but Peter hadn’t been allowed to see him yet. The hospital was absolutely enforcing their family members only policy, because Iron Man was famous before, but now he had saved the universe. So without the name Stark on his ID, he couldn’t get in. Determined nurses and extra security kept things locked down pretty tight with such a high-profile patient.</p><p>Peter had seen Pepper Potts (Stark, it turns out now) through a sea of reporters at the door, unmistakable with her high heels and her straight back and her bright hair as she steadfastly ignored every one calling her name (unfortunately, that had included Peter). She had been holding the hand of a tiny dark haired girl, and a quick search at the library (Peter was relieved that still had public computers five years later, since his phone was who knows where) had revealed that she was married to Mr. Stark, and the dark haired girl was his daughter. Mr. Stark had a kid.</p><p>At first it had been surprise and elation for him when he read it, but the more he thought about it, it turned to terrible thoughts of him being replaced by Morgan Stark.</p><p>Which was stupid. And awful.</p><p>He couldn’t be replaced, because he wasn’t Mr. Stark’s kid. Not really.</p><p>It just hurt to know she spent her afternoons by his side with her family, while Peter wandered up and down the streets.</p><p>But he knew that was selfish. Who was he to begrudge Mr. Stark his own family? Or that little girl a chance to sit by her father’s bed while he recovered from wielding the bloody Infinity stones? Just because of what Peter wanted? Jealousy was such an ugly emotion, and he tried hard to stomp it out.</p><p>But it cut because he didn’t have anywhere to go anymore. He was quite literally homeless.</p><p>Peter waited.</p><p>Because surely Mr. Stark would wake up soon. And then he could help Peter.</p><p>He found a rooftop across the street and he curled up and tried unsuccessfully to sleep.</p><p>The first day he tried calling Mr. Stark’s cell. No one answered, but really, that wasn’t a surprise. According to newspapers he was in a medically induced <em>coma</em>. He didn’t know what to do. He left a message.</p><p>
  <em>“Uh, hey. Mr. Stark! It’s Peter. I’m sure you’re busy. Cause you’re in the hospital. Duh. Sorry… I just, uh, sorry. I was hoping, when you do get this, you could call me back? Cause I could really use some h- I really would like to talk to you? Just uh? I’ll try back later. Uh, yeah… get better. I… I miss you.” </em>
</p><p>He had wanted to call Happy, but his number was no longer in service. Maybe he had had to get a new one? Peter had tried Stark Industries, but apparently in the wake of half the world’s population returning simultaneously, and SI’s current CEO and ex-CEO both having fought Thanos and helped save the universe… well, the windows of the building were dark and the doors were locked and every time Peter called he got a recorded message asking him if his call was important and to please leave a message and someone would call him back.</p><p>He left a message after the fourth attempt, but he couldn’t leave a number to call him back on, since he had borrowed some nice lady’s phone at a coffee shop.</p><p>A few relief shelters had gone up around the city in gymnasiums and indoor arenas for those that had been displaced from their homes during the Blip, and Peter had been to a couple, but they were all <em>full. </em>Too many people, not enough cots. Peter knew he couldn’t take a bed from someone who really needed it. He took the sandwiches and fruit and water bottles a man was passing out, and he left.</p><p>It would only be a few days.</p><p>He could handle a few days.</p><p>He was <em>Spiderman</em>.</p><p> </p><p>The second day he put on his mask. The city still needed him, maybe now more than ever. With so many people displaced, or with no access to the money they had left behind, crime was still happening. His mask smelled like blood, and his webshooters were low, but he did what he could until he ran out of fluid, and then he worked from the streets and clinging to sides of buildings. It was a distraction, and one that Peter desperately needed.</p><p>That evening he tried the hospital again to see if that shift of nurses would be anymore lenient, but no such luck.</p><p>The third day things were almost started to fall into a routine, and if Peter thought about that too much, it scared him. How could being orphaned (<em>again) </em>and sleeping on rooftops and not having enough to appease his metabolism become <em>routine? </em></p><p>But by day four it was wearing a little thin. The panic was gone, and it was unnerving how quickly he had adjusted to having no where to go. But he hadn’t had a shower in days (years, technically) and he was still wearing the sweats from Sam. His suit was currently balled up on the rooftop of a buildings across from the hospital where he had been sleeping. He got three meals a day from the relief shelters. He patrolled. It kept his mind off things he didn’t want to think about, like Aunt May and dust.</p><p>And he waited.</p><p>Mr. Stark would get better soon, and he would look for Peter. He knew it.  </p><p>On day five it rained. He waited on the sidewalk across the street. There were no reporters out today – maybe because of the weather, or maybe because they had to find other stories. Peter would have a clear shot to Pepper and Morgan when they arrived.</p><p>Except they didn’t come.</p><p>He waited for hours, huddled under the little lip of the building across the street, chilled to the bone and dripping wet. But they never came.</p><p>He tried to retreat to the library, but the librarian took one look at his soaking form, water pooling under him on the floor, and kicked him out.</p><p>He had to find a different rooftop, one with shelter form the rain. He shivered, and he pretended he wasn’t crying. His face was just wet from the rain.</p><p>He wanted to see Mr. Stark.</p><p>Twelve days after the battle, the world had pretty much gone back to normal. Everyone seemed to have found ways to slot into their lives again. Everyone except for Peter, who lived in some strange sort of limbo that didn’t feel quite real. Always being a little too cold and a little too hungry kept things feeling numb and out of place. He would dream about space and dream about dying and wake up feeling not quite solid.</p><p>The relief center he frequented had given him some clothes that someone had donated, and he made use of public washrooms, and the sheer effort it took to keep clean without a home was almost a blessing, because it forced him to do something, gave him a task he could focus on.</p><p>On the thirteenth day, the news reported that Tony Stark had been moved to the (repurchased sometime in the last five years) Stark Tower.</p><p>Peter was so relieved he burst into tears.</p><p>Then he dried his tears, grabbed his suit, and made his way to the Tower.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you to all you wonderful readers for the kudos and the comments! It warms my heart to know you're enjoying this as much as I am!<br/>This chapter very much proves that things get worse before they get better. Poor Peter. Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Welcome, Peter.”</p><p>“Hey, Friday.” Peter whispered, feeling surprisingly overwhelmed by the simple greeting. The way that it made him feel like somebody still cared, even if that somebody was a bunch of coding. “Where’s Mr. Stark?”</p><p>“Boss is on the twenty-first floor in the medical wing. Would you like to go up?” She asked.</p><p>Peter scrambled to the elevator Friday opened for him, and when it started to move he asked, “How is he?”</p><p>“I’m afraid I can’t share that information, Peter.”</p><p>“Oh. Right.”</p><p>“Is there something else I can do for you?” Friday asked.</p><p>“Uh, is Pepper around?” He asked uncertainly.</p><p>“Of course. She is also on the twenty-first floor in the common area.”</p><p>Peter nodded.</p><p>The elevator arrived promptly, and Peter stepped off, spying Pepper immediately. She had her back to him but turned when she heard the door. Her tense expression softened a little when she saw him. Peter had only interacted with Pepper a few times, but she had always been important to Mr. Stark and he’d talked about her often, equal parts and fondness and fear in his tone.</p><p>She pulled the phone away from her ear and covered the mouthpiece with a perfectly manicured hand. “Oh, Peter! I was wondering when you would come by! You didn’t come to the hospital.”</p><p>“I did.” Peter said quietly, but Pepper didn’t hear him, already turning back to her phone call. She waved him forward in the direction of Mr. Stark’s room, mouthing “<em>Go on down”</em>.</p><p>Peter followed the sound of Mr. Stark’s steady heartbeat down the hall. His door was open, and Peter slipped inside and just stopped.</p><p>Mr. Stark was prostrate on the bed, his chest rising and falling gently with the help of the tube that had been fed into his body. Half his face and the entirety of one arm was bandaged, but other than that he looked fine. Good, even. Peter just watched him for a few minutes, feeling calmer just being in his presence, even if Mr. Stark wasn’t aware of him.</p><p>Peter reached out to touch him, wanting real, tangible proof that he was going to be okay. That he was still with Peter.</p><p>Pepper came in behind him, and he yanked his hand back before he made contact, feeling like he might have overstepped.</p><p>“He’s going to recover.” Pepper told him.</p><p>“He’s not still…?” In a coma, Peter wanted to ask.</p><p>Pepper shook her head, stepped closer and smiled down at her husband. “No. He was actually awake when I left, he just… tires easily.”</p><p>Pepper’s phone rang again before Peter could say anything else.</p><p>She left the room for a bit of privacy, but with his hearing Peter could hear every word. Could hear her asking Happy how Morgan was doing, and Peter felt a stab of longing to have May there wondering about him again.</p><p><em>May.</em> It had been days and it still almost didn’t seem real. How could it? All he had to mark it was her co-worker’s sympathy and an obituary he’d looked up at the library written by a stranger.  It was like she just vanished, and he was supposed to move on with that? With the last of his family just <em>disappearing? </em></p><p>A nurse arrived not to long after that to check on Mr. Stark, pulling Peter from his circular thoughts, telling him it was time to leave the room.</p><p>He waited out in the hallway for five minutes. Ten minutes. Long enough to map every line in the ceiling pattern. Long enough to wonder if May had a grave somewhere…</p><p>Pepper came back down the hall, and she looked momentarily surprised, as if she had forgotten Peter was still there. She was clearly walking with a mission, but she did pause by him to say “It’s really busy here, now, Peter. But you should come back tomorrow. I know he’d love to see you when he’s awake.”</p><p>A dismissal.</p><p>Tears burned in his tears and his throat was swollen tight and Pepper turned back to her phone and walked away and he knew she was busy but couldn’t she wait just a minute? And why couldn’t Peter make the words come out? May was dead. May was dead, but he couldn’t even say it. The words were like glass shards in his stomach, and if they came up he would <em>bleed</em>.</p><p>It took a few minutes alone in the hallway to calm down.</p><p>“Friday?” He whispered.</p><p>“Yes, Peter?”</p><p>“Is there some place I could stay? Here? In the tower? I don’t want to go back to the rooftop.”</p><p>He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the answer.</p><p>“Of course, Peter. Boss keeps rooms on the twenty-sixth floor for unexpected Avenger guests. Let me show you the way.”</p><p>The room of course was nicer than any one Peter had stayed in before. It had a private bathroom attached, and the first thing Peter did was a take a very lengthy and very necessary shower, washing the grim of the city off himself.</p><p>There were even stock clothes in the walk-in closet – ironically the same kind of sweats that Sam Wilson had given him out of the car. Clearly they were kept on hand for whichever Avenger ended up in a situation where they were clothes-less. Peter was grateful.</p><p>He slept.</p><p>His stomach woke him the next morning, demanding to be filled.</p><p>The kitchen was just as he remembered from his visits for his internship, but when he looked he found out that there were no pop tarts in the cupboard by the fridge like Mr. Stark had always had on hand, and none of his favorite cereal stacked beside Tony’s sugary stuff and Pepper’s healthy stuff.</p><p>Disappointed, he grabbed a colorful box at random and made himself a bowl, trying not to think about the implications that he no longer had a place here. That was to be expected, he reassured himself, it had been years. Things could go back to the way they were.</p><p>Hunched over his bowl of cereal, his Spider-sense barely twitched when someone entered the room. He assumed it was Pepper, until an unimpressed male voice spoke.</p><p>“Who the hell are you?” He said roughly.</p><p>Peter jerked his head up to meet the eyes of a boy slightly older than himself, with a flop of light brown hair and a scowl marring his features.</p><p>Peter pulled back in surprise, his spoon clanking back into the bowl, as the stranger stared him down.</p><p>  Right. His question.</p><p>“I’m Peter.”</p><p>The boy squinted at him, and Peter thought sadly that maybe he simply didn’t know who he was. Maybe Mr. Stark never talked about him. Maybe this kid was his <em>replacement</em>.</p><p>Peter was sure his face was all pinched up as he tried to will his tear ducts to dry up, and the boy looked at him strangely.</p><p>“Harley.” He grunted after a moment.</p><p>Oh. Peter did know who he was. Mr. Stark had spoken of him once or twice, always fondly, but he’d been a little kid in Tennessee or somewhere. Now he was older than Peter, so he must not have been snapped away, and he was <em>here</em>.  </p><p>“Hi.” Peter said quietly.</p><p>“Harley, are you <em>coming</em>?” A little voice singsonged impatiently. “It’s time to see <em>Daddy</em>.”</p><p>“Yeah, Morg. I’m coming.” He said, without taking his eyes off Peter.</p><p>Peter held still, feeling like he was under a microscope, praying he would pass inspection. And then there was Mr. Stark’s daughter, just down the hall, still out of sight, but there. Peter wanted to meet her, but Harley’s narrowed gaze kept him pinned to his seat.</p><p>Then Harley was gone, and Morgan was gone, two sets of footsteps retreating down the hall, and Peter could breath again.</p><p>Was he allowed to see Mr. Stark too? Harley’s demeaner had not been inviting at all, but Pepper had <em>said. </em>Peter glanced down at his soggy, unappealing cereal and took a deep breath. He would see Mr. Stark. Later. When it wasn’t so… crowded. He didn’t want to take away from Morgan’s time with her father. He would never do that.</p><p>Okay. He had a plan. Until then… until then he crawled onto the couch and pulled his knees up to his fragile-feeling chest, and listened to the rain hitting the window.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Oh! Peter! There you are.” Pepper said, her tone high. “Why are you sitting out here? Tony’s been wanting to see you.”</p><p>Peter uncurled, his legs feeling numb from retaining his position on the couch for so long. “He wants to see me?” He repeated.</p><p>“Of course.” Pepper smiled at him. “He was sad he was asleep when you popped in yesterday.”</p><p>Peter trailed after her anxiously. In the elevator she turned to him, hesitated, then said. “Pete, honey. I just want you to know that Tony is pretty tired. He’s already been up for a while, entertaining Morgan - she doesn’t quite understand why daddy can’t play with her. She can be a bit… rambunctious.” Pepper smiled fondly. “And Harley, he knows better, of course, but that kid can still talk anyone’s ear off. Anyways, Tony won’t admit it, but he’s pretty tuckered out right now, so just, go easy on him?”</p><p> Pepper’s expression was gentle and her eyes imploring as she asked him the favor. Peter’s chest clenched. He heard what she was saying. Don’t take up too much of Mr. Stark’s time. Don’t talk about anything that might be considered strenuous. Don’t… tell him that Peter had no one to go home too and he was lost and he needed Mr. Stark to get better so he could help him. He took a deep breath. He couldn’t say no. Not when it was for Mr. Stark’s health. “Of course. Totally understood.”</p><p>She touched his shoulder gently. “Thank you, Peter. I knew I could count on you.”  </p><p>Her phone rang again just as the elevator doors opened, and she answered it with a huff, already waking away as she spoke. Peter hopped out behind her, his enhanced hearing picking up her half of the call as she paced away. “No! He is not able to brief the president at this time. My husband is still <em>recovering, </em>and he will have to be patient like everybody else-“</p><p>“Hey, kid!”</p><p>Peter startled, surprised.</p><p>James Rhodes was smiling down at him, bags under his eyes and his mechanical leg braces whirring faintly as he approached.</p><p>“Rhodey. Hi.”</p><p>“Great timing. The two terrible troublemakers just left, so you have Tony all to yourself. Don’t dawdle though. He’s liable to fall back asleep like the old man he is.” He spun it like a joke, but Peter could see the strain in his expression. Everyone was more worried about Tony then they were letting on.</p><p>“Th-thanks.”</p><p>“No problem, kid.”</p><p>The door to Tony’s room was ajar, and Peter rapped against a few times as he entered. “Mr. Stark?”</p><p>“Kid.” His voice was strained, but it was there. “Come here.”</p><p>Peter shuffled to the far side of the bed where the chairs were and slid into the closest one, trying to look at his uncovered face and not the bandages that reminded him that he had almost lost him too.</p><p>Mr. Stark smiled softly. “It’s good to see you, Pete.”</p><p>Peter, who had been drinking him in, blurted the first thing that came to mind. “You’ve got grey hair.”</p><p>Mr. Stark laughed, which turned into a rickety cough, but his smile was still there. “That happens. You came blame the monkey running around here. Hey, have you met Morgan yet? You’re gonna love her. She is a fireball.”</p><p>“Ah, no. Not yet.”</p><p>“You should. I told her all about you. You gotta meet her.” He murmured. “And you. You’re back now. You’re good as new. Right? Peter? Right?”</p><p>Something frantic had entered Mr. Stark’s eyes, and Peter nodded quickly. Because he was fine now. Mr. Stark would make everything okay. Mr. Stark’s eyes shuttered down for a moment, then blinked back open, head bobbing like suddenly he was too tired to keep it up. Peter’s heart leapt. He had to say something.</p><p>“Actually, Mr. Stark, I have to tell you something else-“</p><p>Except -</p><p>“Pete – Peter. Can we talk later? I know… I know this is important to you, but kid, my head is killing me right now. Maybe we revisit this in a… couple days, when I’m up out of this bed, yeah?”</p><p>Pepper’s words came back to Peter swiftly, Rhodey’s barely disguised worry, and he clamped his mouth shut, biting the words he wanted to say.</p><p>He took a minute to wrestle his emotions back under control, and when Peter glanced back up, Mr. Stark’s eyes were closed and his breathing slow.</p><p>Okay. That was okay. Mr. Stark had to get his strength back. He had to focus on getting himself better before Peter piled more problems on his shoulders.</p><p>Peter watched him sleep for a while longer, half hoping he would wake back up, but after a while he left, back to the common floor, past the kitchen where he could hear Harley moving around. He stopped in the doorway to the common area when he spotted a small, dark-haired head from the doorway.</p><p>He hesitated a moment, then entered.</p><p>              Morgan looked up from her puzzle when he got close, wide eyes meeting his and Peter was struck by how much she looked like her dad.</p><p>“Hey. My name’s Peter.”</p><p>The little girl frowned at him, head tilting. Then she answered with the last thing Peter expected to hear. “Nooo, you’re not.”</p><p>Peter smiled, the edges feeling a little brittle, but it was there. “Yep. I know your dad.”</p><p>Morgan’s nose scrunched up and she shook her head. “No. Daddy’s Peter is dead.”</p><p>Peter’s heart squeezed tight as he remembered that horrible moment in Tony’s arms that still dominated his dreams. “I’m back now. Everyone’s back.”</p><p>“Daddy’s Peter is dead.” She repeated, with all the force in her body.</p><p>Peter took an involuntary step back. Not because he was afraid of her. He knew that her saying the <em>worst thing that had ever happened to him </em>wouldn’t make it happen again.</p><p><em>I’m not dead. I’m right here. I’m right here. </em>She… she was only a kid. Maybe she didn’t realize. Except… did that mean that no one <em>told</em> her? No one thought to mention that he was here and alive and hanging around here? Pepper? <em>Mr. Stark </em>hadn’t mentioned him to her?</p><p>The world tilted dangerously for a moment, and Peter could have sworn he heard his own chest cavity crack open, his poor beaten heart exposed and defenceless. “I’m not dead!”</p><p>Except he didn’t say he – he must have shouted it, shouted at her, shouted at <em>Mr. Stark’s daughter, </em>because her lower lip dropped and her eyes filled and she sobbed.</p><p>Peter stumbled back a step. Before he could decide if it would be better to try and comfort her or just leave, Harley barreled into the room, his attempts at getting food forgotten in the wake of Morgan’s fierce crying. He took five seconds to read the room, then latched on to the Peter, the obvious culprit of Morgan’s distress.</p><p>Harley hissed at him, his arms sweeping around Morgan and placing her on his hip with a practised ease. “Seriously, man? What do you think you’re doing? She’s a kid, and her dad almost died. Can you try not to upset her even more?”</p><p>Peter’s jaw dropped. He wanted to defend himself, wanted to argue, but how did he say <em>she started it</em> without sounding like the most petulant and spoiled person? “I didn’t mean to upset her.” He finely said, tamping down on the voice crying <em>she upset me! </em>But she was five years. He had to get a grip.</p><p>She burrowed deeper in his neck and Harley sighed. “What did you even say to her?”</p><p>“She said I was… dead.” Peter heart thumped loudly. “But I’m not.”</p><p>Harley’s expression shifted, pity streaking through his expression. “She’s only five. Can you really blame her?”</p><p>“No.” <em>Yes.</em></p><p>“Look, I’ll explain it to her. Don’t worry.”</p><p>Peter sagged. He almost wanted to beg Harley to explain it to him, too. There was this little part of him that wanted anybody to tell him that <em>this was real. </em>He still existed. <em>He was here too</em>.  </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Also, just wanted to note that there have been a few questions along the lines of which character knows what, and I do hope that chapter 5 answers them all, so just bear with me a little longer!</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Four</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Guys, I struggled with this chapter. I knew what I wanted and it just wasn't cooperating. It's not as smooth as I would have liked, but hopefully it's bearable at least. I spent a lot of time staring at the page on this one.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Peter did try to stay out of everybody’s way. He felt the least he could do since he was taking up space and food without permission was not be obtrusive. He didn’t actually think Pepper would kick him out of the Tower, but sometimes she’d come into a room and see him and frown a little, and he was terrified of what she could be thinking and he’d hide away as quickly as possible.</p><p>He didn’t try to seek Morgan out again, not wanting to create another scene. He saw Happy a few times, but always as the man was coming or going. He got a genuine-looking smile out of him the first time their paths crossed, and a “It’s good to see ya, kid. It’s been too long.”</p><p>For Peter though it had only been two weeks, and the last time they saw each other Happy had forcefully chewed him out for being late and leaving Happy waiting at the curb for almost an hour (although had tried to explain that it had been a Spiderman thing and he hadn’t been able to just <em>leave - </em>Happy’s response had been that his time was important, too). So it was hard to reconcile with the idea that Happy really missed him.</p><p>Happy did catch up with him in between Peter’s daily activities of pacing in his borrowed room, standing guard outside Tony’s door and avoiding Harley.</p><p>“Hey Peter. Kid.” Happy approached him, assessing eyes catching his.</p><p>“Hey Happy.”</p><p>“So I noticed you’ve been hanging around a lot. Looking out for Tony, am I right?”</p><p>Peter nodded. “Yeah. I just want to talk to him. You know. When he’s better.”</p><p>Happy frowned. Muttered something about ‘teenagers’ under his breath that Peter was sure he wasn’t supposed to hear. “He’s not going to be up for lab time or nothing for a while, you know that?”</p><p>“I do. I know that, Happy. I’m not going to stress him out. I promise.” Peter explained.</p><p>“Great. Glad we had this talk.”</p><p>The next time Peter saw happy was about eight hours later, when he was sitting at the kitchen table staring somberly at a plate of cold pizza. It was about the only food left in the fridge he wouldn’t have to cook himself, but someone had ordered and eaten most of it, and there was only Hawaiian left. Peter hated Hawaiian.</p><p>Happy stopped in the kitchen and his eyes scrunched up as he watched Peter. “Pete. You look exhausted. When was the last time you slept?” He barreled on before Peter even answered. “Go home. Get some rest. Recharge. Come back in a few days.”</p><p>“Um, actually, Happy –“</p><p>“Nope. I’m serious here, kid. You’ve been hanging around like a damn leach. I’m putting my foot down. I don’t want to see you for a few days. Get out of here.”</p><p>The thing is, on any other occasion (read: before Peter knew what it felt like to <em>die, </em>come back and <em>lose everything</em>) this would have been completely normal. He would have expected Happy to say something like this. He would have brushed it off because Happy had a stressful job and didn’t like dealing with teenaged superheroes and Peter knew that. He never pandered Peter or needlessly indulged him.</p><p>He knew Happy drove him back and forth and picked things up for him and brought take-out to the lab when he was there <em>because Tony was paying him too. </em>Peter understood that.</p><p>But today it seemed to hurt just a little more, crack a little deeper, because if Happy was being normal, and acting how he would always act with Peter, then Happy really thought that Peter should leave.  </p><p>He wasn’t sure what hurt more, that he was being kicked out again, or that only Happy had bothered to tell him to get out, and everyone else was just letting him wallow around underfoot.</p><p>He knew it. <em>He knew it. </em></p><p>But somehow he still ended up where he wasn’t wanted again.</p><p>He hadn’t been wanted after Germany, he hadn’t been wanted in space, he hadn’t been wanted at the hospital. And now here he was again, pushing into a place he wasn’t wanted, and only Happy had the guts to tell him so.</p><p>It was by some miracle that he kept his voice steady enough to reply. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll do that.”</p><p>Happy nodded. He didn’t even give him a second glance as he left.</p><p>Peter didn’t have to pack. All he had that belonged to him was his Spiderman suit. His webshooters one again loaded thanks to the upstairs lab. He pulled on the familiar clothing, slipped his shooters on his wrists and pulled his mask over his red-rimmed eyes. Friday opened his window at his request, and he jumped out into the air.</p><p>He couldn’t walk out. He didn’t think he could handle seeing anyone and not having them ask him to stay.</p><p> He spent the rest of the day taking care of his city. He was safe behind his mask. He didn’t have to worry about Peter Parker’s problems. The streets were still familiar. People still needed help. He supposed this was where he belonged. Not in the Tower, not trying to carve himself a place that had already been filled. Harley and Morgan were enough and he didn’t have a place here anymore. Everyone had moved on without him.</p><p>Peter had… overestimated his place.</p><p>They didn’t need Peter, so Peter had to find a way to not need them.</p><p> </p><p>+-+-+-+-+</p><p> </p><p>He hadn’t actually meant to be <em>mean, </em>but the more Harley replayed his last brief conversation with Peter, the more he realized that he sure hadn’t been nice about it.</p><p>At the time, he’d been furious that Morgan was upset. She didn’t need anything else making her life harder, and Harley had taken it on as his <em>job</em> to keep it that way, but since the incident Harley hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Peter. Peter’s expression.</p><p>He had been panicked.</p><p>Not just upset, or indignant, or irritated.</p><p>His eyes had been wide and his voice and cracked and he had looked like he might just fall over before he quit the room. But at the time Harley hadn’t even <em>cared.</em></p><p>Every time Harley replayed it in his mind he wished he had done something to help Peter.</p><p>So he tried, except then he couldn’t even find Peter to ask, or offer, or anything. He’d brought hot chocolate to the room that Friday told him Peter was staying in, but aside from a mussed bed there hadn’t been any indication of his presence. (and why did he have a room on the guest floor and not on the same floor as Harley’s room?)</p><p>It was like they just kept missing each other. Friday told him that Peter was in the kitchen, but by the time he’d made his way there the other teen was already gone.</p><p>So Harley tried to do the responsible thing, and he went to Tony.</p><p>“Harls – what are you doing here?” Tony noticed him first when he came in, Pepper glancing up from the Starkpad she’d been going over with him.</p><p>“Hey - can I have a minute?”</p><p>“Sure. Come on in.” Tony’s bed was adjusted into the sitting position today, and Harley’s chest clenched at the sign of recovery.</p><p>“I, uh, wanted to talk to you about Peter?”</p><p>Tony frowned, eyes shooting quick to Pepper and then back again. “The kid? Is something wrong?”</p><p>Harley took a breath. It might not be his place, but he wanted to say <em>something. </em>If he couldn’t help Peter, then Tony could. “Yesterday Morgan was talking to Peter about… being dead. And he freaked out. Pretty hard. I just thought you should know. I… tried to talk to him. After. But I can’t find him.”</p><p>“Freaked out? Pete?”</p><p>“Yeah, I mean, it wasn’t a panic attack or anything – I don’t think – but he didn’t take it well.”</p><p>Tony’s forehead crumpled. “I should have talked to him. I knew that. Thought about it. Just…”</p><p>He didn’t have to finish, Harley and Pepper both knew what he was thinking. He’d just been to busy reassuring his daughter that he would be fine, wiping tears and soothing her fears. Trying to help Pepper manage the ever-growing list of calls and emails and reporters and debriefs, the Avengers pardons that were getting pushed through, the call up to revisit the Sokovia Accords. Healing, spending most of his days half-coherent from pain meds. Harley already thought that Tony was pushing himself too much, considering he had yet to be cleared to get out of bed.</p><p>But…</p><p>“I was just worried about him? So I wanted you to know?” He shrugged.</p><p>“Thanks, Harls. Looking out for your brother.” Tony said. “Hey, Fri, baby. Where’s Pete? Can you ask him to come here when he has a minute?”</p><p>“Sorry, Boss. Peter Parker is no longer in the Tower.”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Five</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What does that mean? Where’d he go? When will he be back?”</p><p>“He did not say. His last interaction was with Mr. Hogan. Perhaps he can offer some insight.”</p><p>“Great. Yes. Get Happy.”</p><p>“I’m sure he’s fine, Tony, He’s not trapped here. He probably just went home.” Pepper said calmly.</p><p>“Nope. Harley just said he’s <em>not </em>fine.” Tony corrected.</p><p>The three of them waited on edge, Harley practically pacing, Pepper tapping her fingers, Tony wishing he had the mobility to get the tension inside him out.</p><p>It only took a few minutes for Happy to arrive, and Tony suspected his promptness had a lot to do with worrying over Tony’s latest near-death experience.</p><p>Tony interrogated him as soon as he cleared the doorway.  </p><p>“I sent him back to his aunt. The kid looked exhausted, and I figured lurking around the Tower waiting for you to be back on your feet wasn’t good for him. His aunt must’ve been missing him. I was trying to be the adult.” Happy said.</p><p>“Okay. Okay.” What he was saying made sense. Heck, five years ago Tony would have probably done the same thing. But things were different now.</p><p>Tony wasn’t sure <em>why </em>he was feeling so panicked on not having a bead on the kid. He thought he’s gotten over his separation issues some time ago. Maybe it was the feeling of <em>wrongness </em>that settled in his chest, taking up space where the reactor used to sit. “We’ll just call May. Friday, can you call May Parker?”</p><p>There was a beat of silence, and then Friday responded. “I’m afraid May Parker’s phone number is no longer in service, Boss.”</p><p>Tony flinched. He shouldn’t be surprised. It was so long since he tried to contact May. Years. Back when the grief was still so fresh and she blamed Tony for losing her child in space <em>(“Why did you let him go? How could you? My baby. He was all I had left.”) </em>and Tony had taken it all because at that point it was all he could do for her. He’d deserved it. He’d also taken her shouted words, to <em>get out of her life like he should’ve gotten out of Peters. </em></p><p>Words that had hurt just as much as clutching ash and praying to whatever might be listening and still getting <em>nothing </em>as the brightest person he’d ever known floated away.</p><p>No, May Parker hadn’t been able to forgive him, and Tony had accepted that and walked away because she said that was what she needed. It shouldn’t surprise him that she had changed her number. Maybe a clean slate, maybe just trying to make sure he couldn’t go back on her wishes.</p><p>He looked over at Happy, a pain-filled tilt of his head. “Happy. Can you go get my kid?”</p><p>“I’m on it.”  Happy said, guilt and determination saturating his tone.</p><p>Once Happy left the room, Tony breathed. Then he choked and he sobbed quietly - one brief moment where keeping it together was overruled by how damn much he still missed his kid, just out of reach.</p><p>Pepper and Harley didn’t say anything, although his wife dropped the Starkpad on the edge of his bed and stood and wrapped a slim arm around Harley’s trembling shoulders, the teen shaking with emotions he couldn’t name just from watching Tony hurt. They hugged each other since they couldn’t hug him.</p><p>Tony only allowed himself the small break in composure. “Alright. Happy is going to bring Peter back. That’s fixed.” He announced.</p><p>Pepper nodded.</p><p>Then they waited. Harley left not too long after, going to find Morgan and Rhodey, probably just for something to do.</p><p> “Boss, incoming call from Happy Hogan.”</p><p> Tony’s eyes snapped open. “Put him through.”</p><p> “Man, Tony. You could have at least mentioned they’d moved before I went and made a fool of myself at the door.”</p><p> Tony frowned, meeting Pepper gaze. “I… didn’t know. You checked the right apartment? Happy?”</p><p>  “Yes, I checked the right apartment. No May or Peter or any Parker.”</p><p> “Wilson told me he dropped Peter off there, remember?” Tony asked his wife, that brief bit of conversation coming back to him along with the horrible feeling that Peter was dropped off alone in the city after being dusted and dead and coming back and fighting, probably exhausted and hungry, maybe hurt, and then having to find his aunt’s new apartment by himself because Tony wasn’t there to help him. It was an awful feeling.</p><p>  Tony reached down with his good hand and groped around until Pepper helped him by sliding the Starkpad into his grasp. “Friday, let’s find May Parker. ASAP.”</p><p>  “On it, Boss.”</p><p>  “There’s got to be a rental agreement. Probably not a deed.” He muttered to himself while he swiped awkwardly with one hand, working through what Friday was catching, until she paused, no more new files filing his screen.</p><p>  “I found something. Perhaps-“</p><p>  “Show me, girl.” Tony muttered impatiently.</p><p>  Friday threw the document she had found up on his screen, and Tony’s world dropped out from under him.  </p><p>“Pep… Pep, please tell me I’m reading this wrong, because this looks like…”</p><p>He held out the pad with a shaking hand.</p><p>Pepper squinted over at it, and then pulled back abruptly, confirming what Tony was afraid. “It’s an obituary for May Parker.”</p><p>Happy jerked, still on the line. “What?” He shouted.</p><p>But Tony’s mind had already moved past the news, already zoomed past losing May, because the only thought in his brain was…</p><p>“If… May is dead… where’s Peter?”</p><p>  Pepper stood. “Friday, send James down. Now.” Her voice wobbled, and Tony wondered if she was thinking the same thing. If she was replaying all the ways they had clearly failed Peter if he had been orphaned and they had done nothing. Meds be damned. Coma be damned.</p><p>  <em>He should have been there for his kid.</em></p><p>  He should have known, he should have done something.</p><p> Rhodey arrived amidst Tony’s inner breakdown, and Tony met his best friends eyes and watched Rhodey’s widen. Tony wondered if the regret and the pain was so apparent, or if his friend just knew him so well. He didn’t pay any attention to Pepper and Happy conversing back and forth.</p><p>He looked to his friend and pleaded.</p><p>“Get me up out of this goddamn bed.” Tony insisted. “I have to go find my kid.”</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Six</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Wow. So, uh, thanks for everyone's patience? </p><p>You know how sometimes just one little piece keeps everything from coming together, and then one day after weeks of thinking, while you're at work this idea just slides into place and you can see the light at the end of the tunnel? </p><p>Then you run around like a crazy person shouting, "Nobody talk to me until I save this thought!!!" and because you're not a computer, then you end up screaming, "Help! Somebody get me a piece of paper!" and then you walk around with all the answers to your problems folded up on a scrap of looseleaf in your back pocket for the rest of the day. </p><p>Well, okay, not exactly. But you get the picture. :) </p><p>May I present: The end.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rhodey protested. Pepper protested. Harley protested.</p><p>Tony was still weak, but he tried, getting to his feet for the first time in weeks, making his doctor curse. But he didn’t care.</p><p>Of course, the idea he had in his head - of climbing in his suit and flying off and finding the kid and pulling him into his arms - didn’t pan out for a number of reasons. His suit was still a wreck, down in the lab, cracked and broken and Infinity-stoned. He couldn’t track Peter, since the kids own suit had been damaged in the fight and Karen was offline.</p><p>He did get out of bed with a sling and a few <strike>threats</strike> promises from Helen Cho about what he could and could not do, but he wasn’t out there scouring the streets for his Spider-kid. Instead he was giving Friday new tracking algorithms as fast as he could think them up, trying to anticipate what Peter would do.</p><p>His friends searched the city, looking for both Peter and Spiderman, and it killed Tony thinking that every hour that went by was an hour Peter was homeless. Sixteen years old and living… where? The kid was smart, and Tony knew he could take care of himself, but the thought that at anytime his Spiderkid could be hungry or hurt or cold and <em>alone </em>made him nauseous.</p><p> </p><p>It was a stroke of luck that Rhodey found him – War Machine was called up to a large disturbance in the city, and Spiderman was already there, running interference and doing his darndest to web up their opponent. With the two of them they cleaned things up quickly, and Rhodey invited Peter to follow him back to the Tower.</p><p>Thank god. <em>Thank god. </em></p><p>Tony watched it all on the screens. Watched his kid accept Rhodey’s offer easily, them share an elevator up to the common room, and Tony’s heart broke some more at how normal Peter appeared.</p><p>Tony could see how skinny he was under the suit. When he pulled off his mask he could see how sunken his cheekbones were, how dark the circles under his eyes were. There was a streak of dirt across his cheek. But he moved like before, talked like before, and Tony was struck by how <em>strong </em>Peter was too endure all this alone.</p><p>He hated himself for ever leaving the kid in that position.</p><p>When he arrived in the kitchen where Rhodey had deposited Peter, the two heroes were talking over sandwiches. Peter didn’t seem to notice the sadness pulling at his best friends expression, but Tony saw every line of it.</p><p>“Hey Peter.”</p><p>His kids’ big eyes turned to him, lips parting in greeting. “Mr. Stark! You’re up.”</p><p>Tony could hear it now, the relief in his voice. The desperation riding on his words.</p><p>How had they all missed it?</p><p>Rhodey made his exit silently, clasping a hand on Tony’s shoulder as he passed to show his support. Tony pulled himself into the chair he had vacated.</p><p>Peter watched his efforts, brows furrowing as he arranged himself. “Are you sure you’re okay to be out of bed? Should you be out here? Did Dr. Cho say-?”</p><p>“I’m exactly where I need to be, kid.” Tony couldn’t help himself from saying. Then, “I think we need to talk.”</p><p>He hated how Peter’s shoulders tensed.</p><p> The words and the scripts he had practiced over the last few days all scattered, and Tony struggled to find the words he needed. “I know about your aunt.” He blurted.</p><p>Peter’s face crumpled.</p><p>“Pete… oh, Pete. I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.” He wanted to ask, <em>why didn’t you </em>tell <em>me? </em>But that sounded to accusatory. He couldn’t say that to him.</p><p>“She <em>died.” </em>Peter blurted, his voice painfully thick. “She’s g-gone Mr. S-Stark.”</p><p>Tony wondered if this was the first time he had admitted it out loud. “You’re so brave.” He said.</p><p>Peter frowned and shook his head wildly. “I’m not. Why would you s-say that?”</p><p>“Cause I know you, Peter. And I may have had Friday pull up some of the city’s feeds. You were still out there Spiderman-ing and helping people every day. They needed help and you were there for them. But Pete, you have to know – when <em>you</em> need help you can always come to me. I’m right here.”</p><p>There was silence for a beat too long, and Peter was biting his lip fiercely as if holding in what he wanted to say.</p><p>“Kid…”</p><p>“I tried calling.” Peter sobbed. “But you never answered. You never… called me back.”</p><p>Tony froze in horror. “Fri?” He asked hesitantly.</p><p>His AI sounded apologetic. “Mrs. Stark asked me to block all unessential or unknown callers.”</p><p>Tony understood why she had done it – probably would’ve done the same because the whole world seemed to want the scoop, and callers had been relentless, but because of that decision their kid had been alone.</p><p>“And… and I tried to see you – at the hospital – but they wouldn’t let me in. I’m just.. some kid. Not… <em>yours. </em>Not like Morgan… or Harley.” Peter’s voice broke.</p><p>Tony’s heart cracked. He was going to fix this. He was never going to let Peter feel that way again.</p><p>“I’m so sorry, Peter.”</p><p>“It’s alright.” Of course, because his kids’ heart was so big. Of course he would say that.</p><p>“It’s not.” Tony disagreed firmly. Peter needed to know that, even though Tony wanted to take his forgiveness and run with it. “You know, I’ve been looking for you. Since you left the Tower. I couldn’t find you. Should’ve known you couldn’t resist a villain though.” He shot the kid an attempt at a lopsided smile, but he felt it pull his features into a grimace instead at his attempt at humor. “Where were you anyways?” Because Tony had to know.</p><p>“Oh. I was fine. I found a rooftop. Out of the rain… it had a heat vent, too…” Peter mumbled.</p><p>Tony wasn’t surprised, but hearing it confirmed just drove home how much this kid had been let down. “Well, you have a new home now. With us. If you’ll accept.”</p><p>Something like a smile started to bloom on the teenagers face, mouth pulling up, but before it was complete something struck him and Tony watched his face collapse again. “I… can’t.”</p><p>“Why not?” Tony demanded.</p><p>“I… I made Morgan <em>cry.</em>”</p><p>Tony frowned, not quite following his logic. “She’s a kid. She cries all the time.”</p><p>“Yeah, but <em>she’s your kid.</em> Your real one. And I couldn’t even fix it. What if it happens again?” He shrugged helplessly.</p><p>“Peter. <em>You’re my kid too.” </em> Tony blurted.</p><p>“I – what?”</p><p>Tony supposed he could have explained it to the kid at some point. He had had five years of grief and wishing and <em>loving </em>Peter, and Peter didn’t have that time to come to the same place. Tony hated how quickly this anxiety he had had taken hold, that Peter thought he had been replaced.</p><p>That he thought he could be replaced.</p><p>“Peter. I invented time travel. I gambled everything on one moment. One chance. I used those stones and I thought it would be the end of me, and I didn’t do it for Morgan, or Harley. I didn’t do it for the 4 billion people who were gone. Kid, I did it for you.  I never wanted to replace you. I never tried. Pete.” He gave him a watery smile. “I love you.”</p><p>Peter gave a sob, his arms wrapped around himself unconsciously in an approximation of being held.</p><p>“Get over here, kid. I’m still a little broken. You gotta come to me this time.”</p><p>Peter stood so quickly his chair tipped over, but he didn’t even seem to notice he stumbled over to Tony, dropped to his knees and wrapped his thin arms around Tony’s waist. Tony wished he had two arms, could hold the kid as tightly as Peter was holding him, but he had to settle for running one hand through his hair and pulling his face into his chest, letting his shirt soak up weeks of agony as his child cried.</p><p>“I love you too.” Peter whispered.</p><p>“I’ve got you Peter. I promise. Welcome home.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Also, thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! You are all wonderful people and you make my day! Thank y</p>
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